UCSB  LIBRARY 


DISCOURSE 


DELIVERED  AT 


HANOVER,  N.  H,  MAY   7,    1841, 


ON    THE    OCCASION    OF    THK    DEATH    OF 


WILLIAM  HENRY  HARRISON, 


LATE 


PRESIDENT  OF  THE  UNITED  STATES. 


BY  CHARLES  B.  HADDUCK, 

PROFESSOR   OF    INTELLECTUAL    PHILOSOPHY,   &C.    IN    DART.   COLL. 


W   I  N  1)  S  O   It  ,      V  T      . 


PRINTED  BY  TRACY  ANlgvERAiNCE. 

1841. 


To  THE  REV.  PROFESSOR  HADDUCK  : 

Dear  Sir, 

At  a  meeting  held  in  the  College 

Chapel  after  the  close  of  the  services,  yesterday,  a  vote  was  passed  expressing 
the  thanks  of  the  audience  for  your  Discourse,  and  a  request  that  you  would 
furnish  a  copy  of  the  same  for  publication. 

The  undersigned,  having  been  appointed  a  committee  to  transmit  to  you  this 
vote,  would  take  leave  to  add  their  own  earnest  desire  for  your  compliance  with 
the  request. 

Yours,  respectfully, 

AMOS  A.  BREWSTER, 
JOHJN  S.  CRAM, 
AMOS  T.  AKERMAJV, 
WILLIAM  BURJMS, 
R,  E.  LAJNE. 
Hanover,  May  8,  1841. 


GENTLEMEN  : 

If  it  be  thought  that  any  useful  purpose  may  be  answered  by  the 
publication  of  the  Discourse  delivered  by  me,  yesterday,  1  shall  cheerfully 
comply  with  the  request  of  the  Committee. 

Yours,  respectfully,    - 

CHARLES  B.  HADDUCK. 
AMOS  A.  BREWSTER,") 
JOHN  S.  CRAM, 

AMOS  T.  AKERMAN,    ^Committee. 
WILLIAM  BURNS, 
R.  E.  LANE, 


DISCOURSE. 


DEATH  is  the  great  event  of  life.  It  is  the  common  and 
inevitable  lot.  No  creature  is  exempt  from  it.  Every 
organized  being,  even  to  the  unconscious  tribes  of  the 
vegetable  world,  returns,  by  an  irresistible  law,  to  the  dust 
out  of  which  it  was  made. 

But  of  all  the  dwellers  upon  the  earth,  man  alone  is  per 
mitted  to  know  this  law ;  to  him  only  it  is  given  to  think 
upon  this  universal  fate ;  he  alone  anticipates  his  end.  To 
other  animals,  the  most  sagacious  and  intelligent  and  endued 
with  instincts,  in  some  respects  superior  to  reason  itself, 
Death  comes  always  unlocked  for.  The  fear  of  it,  and  the 
idea  of  it,  are  the  melancholy  privilege  of  the  most  favored 
of  God's  earthly  creatures. 

To  him  the  event  is  never  indifferent.  To  whatsoever 
living  thing  it  comes,  it  wears  a  serious  aspect,  and  awakens 
sad  associations.  He  does  not  look  even  upon  the  dying 


year  without  depression.  The  fading  flowers  and  falling 
leaves  are  the  natural  emblems  of  the  gloom  and  sorrow  of 
his  inward  life. 

To  the  least  cultivated  the  cessation  of  our  animal  exis 
tence  is  matter  of  thoughtful  contemplation.  To  the  deepest 
read  in  the  attributes  and  destinies  of  our  race,  it  is  a  fearful 
and  exciting  mystery.  The  dissolution  of  this  curious  and 
wonderful  fabric ;  the  separation  of  the  thinking  principle 
from  all  material  organization;  the  closing  up  all  known 
channels  of  intercourse  with  material  things ;  the  sundering 
of  the  social  ties  ;  the  extinction  of  endearing  and  kind 
offices  ;  the  termination  of  our  earthly  duties  and  responsi 
bilities  ;  and,  more  than  all  besides,  the  entrance  of  another 
intelligent  moral  being  upon  the  scenes  of  an  eternal  state — 
these  are  considerations,  which  give  interest  and  moment  to 
every  human  death.  These  are  the  reasons  which  draw  us 
so  irresistibly  to  the  house  of  mourning,  and  attach  such 
sacredness  to  the  last  offices  we  pay  to  the  deceased.  These 
are  the  causes,  which  spread  its  profound  and  mysterious 
expression  over  the  face  of  the  dead,  and  hallow  the  place 
where  we  lay  them. 

It  is  for  these  reasons,  that,  on  occasions  like  the  present, 
we  pause  even  from  personal  and  party  strife  to  indulge  in 
humane  sentiments  and  common  sympathies.  For  these 
reasons  Death  hushes,  for  a  moment  at  least,  our  noisy  con 
tention  for  the  unsubstantial  objects  of  this  life,  and  soothes 
the  animosities,  which  have  been  engendered  by  mutual 
complaint  and  recrimination.  He  is  something  less  than 
man,  and  more  to  be  distrusted  and  despised  than  any  man, 
who  can  look  upon  a  fallen  antagonist,  even  though  he  were 
a  personal  foe,  without  a  tear,  and  insult,  with  impotent 


5 

revenge,  the  pale  unconscious  piece  of  earth  that  lies  low 
before  him. 

It  is  grateful  to  know,  that  the  American  people  are  not 
capable  of  this  unnatural  malignity.  It  is  delightful  to  see, 
that  the  great  stroke  of  Providence,  which  has  bereft  the 
nation  of  its  Chief  Magistrate,  is  felt  as  a  national  wound, 
lamented  as  a  common  calamity.  It  does  relieve,  somewhat, 
the  fears  of  the  friends  of  Democratic  Liberty,  to  witness 
the  spontaneous  and  full  utterance  of  a  common  grief,  on 
this  occasion,  by  parties  so  lately  irritated  to  frenzy  by  an 
acrimonious  political  contest.  Dejected  Patriotism  will  lift 
up  her  head  again,  and  reassure  herself,  by  these  cheerful 
omens,  that  the  public  heart  is  still  true,  and  that,  in  our 
fond  estimation,  it  is  something  more  to  be  an  American  than 
to  be  of  any  party,  something  higher  and  better  to  be  a  MAN 
than  to  be  of  any  nation  or  tribe  under  heaven. 

Death  !  mighty,  mysterious  event !  How  little  we  know 
of  it.  It  stands  at  our  door ;  it  comes  into  our  houses ;  to 
our  very  beds;  it  takes  away  friend  after  friend  from  our 
bosoms  and  in  our  sight.  Yet,  how  unfamiliar,  to  the  last, 
the  too,  too  frequent  guest;  how  strange,  even  as  at  the 
first,  those  well  remembered  features !  End,  at  once,  and 
beginning  of  life  !  Period  of  final  separation  between  all  we 
love,  or  know,  in  this  beautiful  world  and  the  untried,  the 
wondrous  future  !  Point  of  fearful  and  amazing  interest,  to 
which  converge  all  the  incidents  of  life  and  the  tendencies 
of  nature ;  and  from  which  diverge  the  events  and  destinies 
of  an  endless  being.  Ah !  how  many  myriads  of  anxious 
men  have  pondered  on  the  closing  scene,  and  longed  and 
prayed  for  one  glance  beyond.  The  Son  of  God  hath 
brought  the  fact  and  the  way  of  Life  and  Immortality  to 


6 

light ;  but  the  mystery  of  the  great  change  is  not  explained 
by  the  Gospel.  The  same  Revelation  which  assures  us,  that 
our  affections  and  sensibilities  are  to  be  perpetuated  in 
eternity,  assures  us,  also,  that  "  in  Heaven  they  neither 
marry,  nor  are  given  in  marriage ;  but  are  as  the  angels  of 
God,  which  are  in  Heaven." 

To  death  we  cannot  look  forward  with  unconcern.  No 
man  can  think  of  meeting  it  carelessly,  or  without  prepara 
tion.  Its  import  is  too  grave  and  weighty  ;  its  consequences 
too  lasting  and  momentous.  One  might  wish,  indeed,  to 
shun  the  corporal  pang — the  pain  of  dying — the  undescribed 
anguish  of  the  last  conflict.  And  we,  sometimes,  idly  covet 
the  fate  of  those  whom  death  surprizes,  and,  by  an  unfelt 
blow,  summons  from  the  midst  of  life,  without  opportunity 
to  suffer  or  to  fear.  But,  upon  second  thought,  who  would 
not  choose  to  be  forewarned  ?  Who  would  consent  to  be 
precipitated  upon  eternal  scenes ;  to  take  no  leave  of  life — no 
deliberate  farev/ell  of  the  cheerful  sun,  and  thoughtful  moon, 
and  patient  earth ;  to  forego  the  last  embrace  of  those  we 
love — the  longing,  lingering  look  of  departing  affection? 
Who  would  lose  the  opportunity  of  his  latest  hour  for  assur 
ing  himself  of  peace  with  Heaven,  and  preparation  for  the 
limitless  and  awful  future  ?  It  is  one  of  the  great  common 
mercies  of  Providence,  that  we  are  brought  down  to  the 
grave  by  lingering  disease.  Wearisome  days  and  nights  of 
pain  are  appointed  unto  us  in  mercy. 

When  one  of  the  lowliest  of  men  dies,  there  is  a  serious 
vacancy  produced.  The  wound  is  deep,  and  long  felt.  The 
world  is  not  interested  in  the  change  ;  yet,  how  great  the 
change  is.  The  condition  of  a  human  family,  the  circle,  with 
in  which  occur  most  of  the  events,  that  give  happiness,  or 


misery,  to  life,  is  forever  and  essentially  altered.  New  rela 
tions  are  instituted ;  new  dependencies  are  thenceforth  to  be 
felt ;  new  responsibilities,  to  arise :  new  forms  of  character, 
to  be  assumed.  Long  cherished  affections  are  ruptured;  ac 
customed  pursuits  are  laid  aside  ;  settled  purposes  are  broken 
off.  To  a  whole  household,  life  has  become  another  thing  ; 
the  world  is  to  be  viewed  by  them  in  a  new  light,  and  lived 
in,  with  new  feelings.  The  loss  is  sensible  ;  and  it  is  irre 
parable.  Friendship  may  administer  its  sympathies  to  the 
desolate  bosom  ;  and  they  are  sweet  to  the  mourning  heart. 
Providence  may  be  gracious  still ;  our  fields  may  smile,  and 
our  enterprises  may  prosper.  But  for  violated  love  there  is 
no  reparation.  The  dead  will  return  no  more  ;  his  place  is 
not  to  be  supplied.  The  victories  of  Death  are  permanent  ; 
its  monuments  never  decay,  or  moulder. 

Even  when  a  great  man  dies,  the  most  poignant  grief  is 
not  public.  The  bitterest  sighs  are  heaved,  and  the  most 
scalding  tears  are  shed  in  private.  Even  now,  while  a  nation 
is  clad  in  mourning  for  the  hero  and  the  statesman,  and  the 
parade  and  circumstance  of  public  sorrow  present  an  impos 
ing  and  engrossing  spectacle  to  all  eyes,  there  is  a  mansion, 
on  the  banks  of  the  Ohio,"  where  the  names  of  General  and 
President  are  not  mentioned.  The  sorrows,  that  darken  that 
house,  are  the  sorrows  which  bereaved  woman  always  feels ; 
the  tears,  that  are  shed  there,  are  such  as  crushed  affection 
every  where  sheds.  It  is  nothing  to  her,  who  sits  a  widow, 
in  that  vacant  home,  that  the  warrior  and  the  politician  is 
called  from  the  scene  of  his  triumphs.  It  is  little  to  her,  that 
a  new  government  is  deprived  of  its  head,  a  great  people  of 
a  favorite  Ruler.  Her  lamentation  is  for  the  husband  of  her 
youth  and  the  father  of  her  children.  It  is  the  bitterness  of 


8 

her  cup,  that  the  vacant  place  at  her  table,  and  at  her  fireside, 
and  on  her  couch  of  rest,  will  never,  never  more  be  filled  ; 
that  henceforth  her  way  is  to  be  solitary,  and  her  heart  lonely. 
To  her  life  is  ended  before  the  time. 

Such  is  Death  always.  But  when  one  of  the  gifted  is  taken 
away,  it  is  a  public  calamity.  A  great  man  belongs  to  his 
people.  He  is  a  public  possession — part  of  a  nation's  cap 
ital,  strength,  and  honor.  A  comprehensive  intellect,  a  beau 
tiful  imagination,  superior  activity  and  energy,  sublime  prin 
ciple,  in  which  the  heart  of  a  nation  may  trust,  magnanimity 
and  enterprise  capable  of  inspiring  and  sustaining  popular 
enthusiasm,  mind  to  dignify,  adorn,  and  perpetuate — what 
has  a  people  so  precious,  so  sacred  ?  What  should  a  com 
munity  so  prize  and  cherish  ? 

In  whatever  department  of  honorable  industry  such  mind 
discovers  itself,  it  is  above  all  price.  Be  it  in  Philosophy,  se 
cluding  itself  and  wearying  the  hours  in  the  study  of  truth ; 
or  in  Art,  disciplining  itself,  and  raising  itself  up,  in  the  fond 
hope  of  realizing  in  marble,  or  on  canvass,  or  in  the  more 
enduring  forms  of  language,  the  features  of  beauty,  which  it 
has  dimly  conceived  in  its  favored  moments  ;  or,  be  it  in  Elo 
quence,  or  Policy,  or  action — wherever  more  than  ordinary 
intellect,  or  taste,  or  goodness,  shews  itself,  there  is  some  part 
of  a  nation's  greatness  ;  there,  one  of  the  gems  of  its  future 
crown.  Without  such  mind  it  may  possibly  exist,  may  veg 
etate  upon  the  earth ;  but  the  frosts  of  the  first  winter  will 
scorch  every  green  thing,  and  the  winds  will  blow  it  away. 
Nothing  of  all  a  people's  treasures  is  imperishable  but  its 
great  minds.  Nothing  but  the  genius  and  virtue  of  its  noble 
sons  can  bind  it  to  the  family  of  illustrious  nations,  or  link  its 
history  to  the  series  of  renowned  ages.  And  when  the  men, 


9 

to  whom  it  owes  its  place  and  its  hopes,  are  removed  by  death, 
it  is  proper  to  mourn.  The  tears  of  a  whole  people  are  a  fit 
tribute  to  departed  greatness.  The  treasure  was  public ;  the 
loss  is  public,  too.  And  in  proportion  as  it  is  great,  it  is, 
also,  irreparable.  A  great  man  may  make  an  age,  may  be 
himself  the  age. 

In  the  death  of  the  late  President  Harrison  we  have  not 
been  called  to  lament  the  premature  departure  of  a  man  of 
Genius,  a  discoverer  in  science,  a  national  orator,  or  poet. 
Though  raised  to  the  highest  civil  office  in  the  gift  of  a  great 
people,  he  was  not,  perhaps,  a  disciplined  and  studied 
politician.  With  the  exception  of  the  ever  green  honors 
won  by  him  in  the  late  war  with  England  and  her  savage 
allies,  there  is  not,  that  I  know,  any  passage  of  remarkable 
splendor  in  his  career.  Nor  had  he,  probably,  any  single 
trait  of  character,  so  prominent  and  peculiar  as  to  distinguish 
him  ;  much  less,  the  age  to  which  he  belongs.  His  intellect 
was,  undoubtedly,  sound  and  clear  :  his  education,  the  best 
which  his  native  State  afforded  in  his  time,  classical,  sub 
stantial,  and  varied  ;  his  military  and  civil  history,  marked 
by  uniform  good  judgment  and  generosity.  In  a  succession 
of  difficult  and  responsible  offices,  through  a  long  course 
of  public  service,  he  commanded  entire  confidence,  and 
received  the  most  unequivocal  testimonials  of  enthusiastic 
approbation.  He  never  lost  a  battle ;  and  never  violated 
a  trust.  His  policy  \vas  wise  and  liberal ;  his  exercise  of 
power,  beneficent  and  honorable.  Though  distinguished 
for  energy  and  determination,  decision  and  authority  were 
so  tempered  in  him,  by  justice  and  mildness,  that  it  was 
common  to  hear  him  spoken  of  in  public  documents,  as  well 
as  private  conversation,  as  the  "  beloved  Harrison." 


And  yet,  when  compared,  as  his  ultimate  elevation  leads 
us  to  compare  him,  with  men  of  the  very  highest  order  of 
mind,  we  do  not  find  him  characterized  by  singular  and 
splendid  individual  traits.  He  belongs  rather  to  the  order  of 
the  Good  than  of  the  Great — the  order  of  Perfection  rather 
than  of  Genius — the  order  of  Washington  and  Alfred,  men  so 
proportioned,  so  balanced,  so  right,  so  uniform,  so  beautiful  in 
their  whole  conformation  and  development,  that  we  are  almost 
equally  at  a  loss,  what,  in  particular,  to  complain  of,  or  to  ad 
mire. 

Genius  is  rare ;  but  not  so  rare  as  this  happy  equal  develop 
ment.  Caesar  was  mighty;  but  "  Cocsar  was  ambitious." 
Alexander  conquered  the  world  ;  but  he  died  at  a  drunken 
feast.  Elizabeth  was  great.  In  an  age  of  excited  intellect 
and  chivalrous  adventure,  of  heated  political  and  religious 
controversy,  the  tumult  of  contending  sects  was  hushed  by  a 
woman's  voice,  and,  for  fifty  years,  the  boldest  and  most 
restless  spirits  of  England,  were  led  by  a  virgin  hand.  But 
Elizabeth  has  left  us  in  doubt,  which  most  to  wonder  at,  the 
greatness  of  her  power,  or  the  littleness  of  her  revenge.  Bona 
parte  was  a  man  of  Genius,  of  vast  comprehension  and  high 
conception  ;  but  the  Emperor  of  France  took  from  his  bosom 
the  most  beautiful  of  women  and  the  loveliest  of  wives,  and 
sacrificed  her  on  the  altar  of  his  Pride.  Demosthenes  was  an 
orator  and  a  statesman  :  but  the  deliverer  of  Athens,  accept 
ed  a  bribe.  Cicero  was  a  Philosopher  and  a  gifted  man  ;  but , 
the  child  and  eloquent  friend  of  the  Republic,  he  hesitated 
in  his  preference  between  contending  tyrants,  and  died 
with  the  reputation  of  a  coward.  Bacon,  the  Father  of 
Modern  Science,  is  characterised  by  Pope  as 

"  The  wisest,  brightest,  meanest  of  mankind." 


11 

History  is  full  of  splendid  greatness,  striking  demon 
strations  of  power,  of  heroism,  of  imagination,  of  reason, 
of  generosity,  of  Patriotism.  But  a  perfect  man  history 
hath  not  found.  Those,  who  have  come  any  wise  near 
to  our  idea  of  true  greatness,  are  exceeding  rare. 

Bonaparte's  test  of  greatness  is  said  to  have  been,  "  What 
has  the  man  done  ?"  If  our  lamented  Chief  Magistrate  be 
tried  by  this  standard,  history  will  do  him  honor. 

He  was  born  in  Virginia  in  1773 ;  was  educated  at 
Hampden  Sydney  College ;  and  entered  on  the  study  of 
medicine.  At  the  age  of  nineteen  he  received  his  first  milita 
ry  commission  under  Washington.  He  distinguished  himself, 
as  a  soldier,  in  numerous  Indian  campaigns  ;  and  particularly 
at  Tippecanoe  in  1811,  and  at  the  Thames  in  1813,  in 
which  celebrated  battles  he  led  our  troops  to  victory.  At 
the  age  of  twenty-three  he  was  chosen  a  Delegate  to 
Congress  for  the  North-west  Territory,  including  Indiana, 
Illinois,  Missouri,  and  upper  Louisiana.  At  twenty-seven 
he  was  appointed  Governor  of  that  Territory.  This  office 
he  held  twelve  years.  In  1816  he  was  chosen  a  Repre 
sentative  in  Congress ;  and  in  1 824,  a  Senator  of  the 
United  States.  In  1828  he  went  as  Minister  to  Columbia. 
He  was  also,  repeatedly,  Indian  Commissioner.  Thus  from 
the  age  of  nineteen  to  that  of  fifty-six  he  was  in  the  public 
service,  almost  without  interruption. 

In  his  military  career,  although,  during  the  late  war,  he 
was  engaged  in  more  battles  than  any  other  General  officer, 
he  never  suffered  a  defeat,  and  was  never  guilty  of  a  tyran- 
ical,  cruel,  or  ungenerous  deed.  A  wounded  British  Officer, 
a  prisoner  in  his  camp,  complained  to  him,  that  the  Americans 
refused  him  a  bed.  "  Ah  !  said  he,  you  shall  have  mine  ;" 


12 

and  immediately  sent  him  his  blanket,  the  only  bed  he  had, 
and  his  saddle  for  a  pillow.  The  same  generous  heart  was 
manifested,  after  his  elevation  to  power,  in  his  treatment 
of  a  worn  out  son  of  the  sea,  with  whom  he  had  formed  an 
intimate  acquaintance  some  years  before.  The  true  hearted 
Tar,  now  old  and  reduced  to  poverty,  called  at  the  Pres 
ident's  house,  in  Washington,  and  was  known  still,  was 
urged  to  partake  of  the  hospitalities  of  the  splendid 
mansion  ;  was  seen  walking  arm  in  arm  with  the  Pres 
ident  about  his  grounds  ;  and,  when  he  left  the  kind  seat 
of  power,  carried  with  him  to  the  Collector  of  the  Port 
of  New  York,  a  letter  of  recommendation,  which  imme 
diately  procured  for  him  the  office  of  Inspector  of  the 
Customs. 

While  in  Congress,  General  Harrison  had  the  liberality 
to  devise,  and  the  energy  to  carry  through,  the  system,  in 
reference  to  the  sale  of  the  public  lands,  by  which  those 
lands  have  since  been  sold  to  settlers  in  small  farms  of  640 
or  320  acres,  instead  of  4000  acres  ;  and  thus  the  poor  and 
industrious  emigrant  relieved  from  the  exactions  of  the 
capitalist  and  speculator.  To  this  measure,  in  a  great 
degree,  has  been  ascribed  the  rapid  settlement  and  growth 
of  the  whole  Western  country. 

As  Governor  of  the  North-west  Territory,  he  exercised  a 
more  unlimited  authority  than  any  other  individual  has 
possessed  under  the  Constitution.  In  him  were  vested, 
at  once,  the  legislative,  the  judicial,  and  the  military  power, 
with  advantages  for  the  advancement  of  his  own  private 
interests,  unequaled  in  the  country.  Yet,  he  laid  down  that 
authority,  unenriched,  and  unstained  by  an  unjust,  selfish, 
or  mean  act. 


13 

As  Indian  Commissioner,  he  negotiated  a  great  number 
of  Treaties,  highly  advantageous  to  the  United  States,  and 
without  incurring  the  charge,  or  suspicion,  of  fraud,  or 
oppression,  or  injustice,  in  his  intercourse  with  the  Indian 
tribes.  Fifty-one  millions  of  acres,  including  the  richest 
mineral  region  in  the  Union,  were  procured  by  him,  in  a 
single  Treaty. 

At  a  time  of  unexampled  party  excitement  and  party 
jealousy,  he  united  in  himself  a  more  unanimous  and  cordial 
popular  vote,  than  any  other  statesman  of  the  age  would, 
probably,  have  been  able  to  command  ;  and  came  into 
power  as  independent,  and  as  little  shackled  by  obligations 
and  promises,  personal  or  local,  as  any  President  since 
Washington.  In  the  heat  of  the  late  contest,  no  grave 
charge  was  seriously  made  against  his  personal  character. 
The  crime  of  being  an  old  man  was  nearly  all  that  was 
laid  to  him.  And  now  that  he  is  dead,  there  is  almost  no 
dissent  from  the  general  attestation  of  a  bereaved  people 
to  the  integrity  of  the  Statesman,  the  valor  of  the  Warrior, 
and  the  simplicity  and  nobleness  of  the  man. 

There  is  one  feature  in  the  character  of  the  illustrious 
man,  whose  loss  we  deplore,  which  has  already  attracted 
much  public  attention,  and  which  can  hardly  fail  to  appear 
the  more  worthy  of  regard,  the  more  it  is  considered.  I 
refer  to  the  moral  and  religious  light,  which  invests  his 
eminent  intellectual  and  active  qualities. 

The  personal  incidents,  which  his  decease  has  already 
been  the  occasion  of  bringing  before  the  country,  all  together, 
present,  perhaps,  the  most  remarkable  instance  of  decided 
evangelical  principle,  which  has  dignified  the  office  of  Chief 
Magistrate  of  the  United  States. 


14 

On  these  facts,  in  his  Biography,  it  is  grateful  and  whole 
some  to  dwell.  They  teach,  I  may  almost  say,  a  new  lesson 
to  the  American  people.  Most  certainly,  if  not  wholly  new, 
the  lesson  they  teach  derives  a  peculiar  value  from  the 
singular  circumstances  in  which  it  has  been  taught. 

The  example  of  sound  principle  and  fearless  piety  in  a 
period  of  inordinate  personal  ambition,  of  selfishness,  and 
carelessness  of  right  and  responsibility,  is  useful  and  admira 
ble  in  exact  proportion  as  it  is  difficult ;  and  the  more  useful 
and  the  more  admirable,  the  higher  the  station,  which  it 
adorns. 

A  more  perfect  acquaintance  with  the  history  of  the  man 
will,  doubtless,  discover  additional  materials  for  the  full 
display  of  his  religious  character.  Enough,  however,  is 
known  to  leave  no  doubt,  that  in  his  premature  death,  the 
Country  has  lost  one  of  its  best  models  of  a  Roman  severity 
of  manners  and  a  Christian  spirituality  of  mind. 

He  was  a  believer  in  the  inspiration  and  authority  of  the 
Bible.  It  was  observed,  that,  during  the  pressure  of  public 
cares,  at  the  commencement  of  his  government,  he  neglected 
not  to  read  a  portion  of  the  Scriptures  daily.  It  has  been 
asserted  since  his  decease,  that,  for  twenty  years,  this  had 
been  his  invariable  practice.  On  taking  possession  of  the 
Executive  Mansion,  finding  no  copy  of  the  Bible  in  the 
house,  he  immediately  purchased  one ;  and  remarked  to 
some  friend,  that  out  of  the  first  appropriation  for  the 
President's  house,  he  would  buy  the  best  copy  of  the  Bible 
he  could  find,  and  inscribe  upon  it,  "  To  the  President  of 
the  United  States  from  the  People  of  the  United  States." 

Before  his  election,  and  even  up  to  the  time  of  his  leaving 
Cincinnati,  he  was  a  teacher  in  the  Sabbath  School,  con- 


15 

nected  with  his  place  of  worship.  This  school  he  sometimes 
assembled  and  addressed.  After  his  removal  to  Washington, 
this  anecdote  is  related  of  him.  In  his  last  out  of  door  exer 
cise  he  is  said  to  have  been  engaged  in  giving  directions  to 
his  gardener  about  training  some  vines.  The  gardener  sug 
gested  the  necessity  of  procuring  an  active  watch  dog  to 
take  care  of  the  grapes,  or  the  boys  would  come,  while  the 
family  were  at  church,  and  steal  them.  "Better,  said  the 
General,  employ  an  active  Sabbath  School  Teacher.  A 
dog  may  take  care  of  the  grapes  ;  but  a  good  Sabbath 
School  Teacher  will  take  care  of  the  grapes  and  the 
boys  too." 

This  illustrious  man  regarded  the  Holy  Sabbath.  He 
was,  in  the  West,  a  constant  attendant  on  Divine  Worship. 
His  house  was  open  to  the  Christian  Minister  and  Missionary. 
In  the  Capital  he  continued  true  to  himself,  and  devoted  the 
sacred  day  to  its  appropriate  duties.  A  fact  is  related  of 
him,  in  this  respect,  which  places  him,  in  simple  Christian 
dignity  by  the  side  of  Sir  Matthew  Hale  and  Sir  William 
Jones ;  and  shows,  that  the  heroic  spirit,  which  won  for 
him  the  martial  laurels  which  crowned  his  brow,  was  not 
the  inspiration  of  the  tented  field,  or  the  impulse  of  a 
frenzied  moment,  but  an  inward  principle,  an  original 
element  of  his  nature. 

The  first  Sabbath  after  his  removal  to  the  Executive 
Mansion,  it  has  been  said,  political  men  called  upon  him  as 
usual.  He  remarked  to  his  family,  that  "  Sunday  visiting 
must  be  broken  up."  On  the  following  Lord's  Day,  some 
of  the  Foreign  Ministers  called  :  and  he  was  denied  to  them. 
On  the  same  day  certain  political  friends  came  in.  He  sat 
for  a  while,  and  then,  courteously  addressing  them,  said. 


16 

"  Gentlemen,  I  shall  always  be  glad  to  see  you,  except  upon 
the  Sabbath  day,"  and  immediately  retired  to  his  private 
apartments,  leaving  them  to  be  entertained  by  other  members 
of  his  family.  In  the  same  independent  spirit  he  said  to  a 
young  officer,  who  appeared  at  his  levee,  evidently  intoxi 
cated,  "  Sir,  I  am  sorry  to  see  you  here,  or  any  man  in  your 
condition." 

A  few  years  before  his  decease  an  unusual  interest  was 
awakened  on  the  subject  of  experimental  religion,  in  his 
vicinity.  He  openly  manifested  his  personal  concern  on  the 
great  and  interesting  subject ;  and  from  that  time  added  to 
the  virtues  of  the  warrior  and  the  statesman,  the  higher  titles 
of  a  soldier  of  the  Cross  and  a  citizen  of  Zion. 

He  was  to  have  united  with  one  of  the  churches  in 
Washington  and  partaken  of  the  Holy  Communion  on  the 
Sabbath  following  that  on  which  he  died.  Happy,  happy 
for  him,  when  that  blessed  day  dawned,  to  have  been 
drinking  of  the  fruit  of  the  vine,  new  with  Christ,  in  the 
kingdom  of  his  Father. 

He  had  enjoyed  the  privilege  of  a  religious  education  from 
a  most  pious  mother.  On  a  recent  visit  to  the  place  of  his 
birth,  he  pointed  out  to  his  friends,  with  evident  delight, 
"  his  mother's  room,"  the  closet  to  which  she  used  to  retire 
for  her  private  devotions,  the  very  spot  where  she  used  to  sit 
reading  her  Bible,  and  where  she  taught  him,  in  childhood, 
to  pray  on  his  knees — a  practice  from  which  he  departed 
not  when  he  was  old. 

Of  a  piece  with  all  these  private  incidents  are  the  senti 
ments  so  distinctly  and  prominently  expressed  in  the  Inau 
gural  Address.  "  However  strong  may  be  my  present 
purpose  to  realize  the  expectation  of  a  magnanimous  and 


17 

confiding  people,  I  too  well  understand  the  infirmities  of 
human  nature  and  the  dangerous  temptations  to  which  I 
shall  be  exposed  from  the  magnitude  of  the  power  which  it 
has  been  the  pleasure  of  the  people  to  commit  to  my  hands, 
not  to  place  my  chief  confidence  upon  the  aid  of  that  Al 
mighty  power  which  has  hitherto  protected  me,  and  enabled 
me  to  bring  to  favorable  issues  other  important,  but  still 
greatly  inferior  trusts  heretofore  confided  to  me  by  my 
country."  "  I  deem  the  present  occasion  sufficiently  im 
portant  and  solemn  to  justify  me  in  expressing  to  my  fellow 
citizens  a  profound  reverence  for  the  Christian  Religion,  and 
a  thorough  conviction,  that  sound,  moral,  and  religious 
liberty  and  a  just  sense  of  religious  responsibility  are  essen 
tially  connected  with  all  true  and  lasting  happiness:  and 
to  that  Good  Being,  who  has  blessed  us  by  the  gifts  of  civil 
and  religious  freedom,  who  watched  over  and  prospered  the 
labors  of  our  fathers,  and  has  hitherto  preserved  to  us 
institutions  far  exceeding  in  excellence  those  of  any  other 
people,  let  us  unite  in  fervently  commending  every  interest 
of  our  beloved  country  in  all  future  time." 

Such  was  the  man  we  mourn.  Personal  popularity  raised 
him  to  the  lofty  eminence,  which  personal  merit  adorned 
and  dignified. 

The  circumstances  of  his  death  are  of  that  class,  which, 
sometimes,  give  to  real  history  an  air  of  romance  and  a 
pathos  beyond  the  power  of  imagination  itself  to  equal. 

The  hero  and  politician  had,  twelve  years  before,  retired 
from  the  scenes  of  public  life  to  his  quiet  farm  house  on  the 
Ohio,  to  repose,  at  last,  from  a  life  of  hazard  and  responsi 
bility,  longer  and  more  eventful  than  falls  to  the  lot  of  most 
men.  There,  without  a  dream  of  future  honors,  or  a  thought 


18 

of  higher  duties,  he  was  personally  tilling  his  humble  acres, 
in  a  humble  garb,  by  day,  and  resting,  by  night,  in  slum 
bers,  which  no  care  disturbed.  By  an  unexpected  turn  of 
events,  his  name  was  mentioned  among  the  candidates  for 
the  first  office  in  his  Country.  As  if  there  had  been  some 
magic  in  the  sound,  the  Hero  of  Tippecano,  the  Farmer  of 
North  Bend,  and  the  Good  man  of  the  West  rose  on  the 
breath  of  popular  enthusiasm,  as  on  the  bosom  of  a  swelling 
sea,  to  the  sublime  height  of  power.  Enthroned  in  the 
affections  of  millions,  and  robed  in  authority,  he  had  just 
time  to  publish  his  principles  of  Administation,  and  collect 
his  cabinet  around  him  ;  and,  at  the  very  moment  of  his 
triumph,  while  an  expectant  and  confiding  people  were  yet 
gazing  on  the  new  spectacle,  touched  by  Death,  he  melted 
away,  like  a  snow-flake  in  the  sun.  Within  one  brief  month 
was  he  conducted  by  exulting  multitudes,  with  paeans  and 
floating  banners,  to  the  summit  of  earthly  ambition,  and,  by 
the  same  multitudes,  in  weeds  and  tears,  borne  down  to  the 
lowly  and  dark  house  appointed  for  all  the  living. 

Power,  Empire,  Glory  !  What  are  ye  all !  O,  there  are 
moments,  when  the  offices  and  honors  of  this  world  appear 
like  the  bright  exhalations  of  a  summer's  morning — as 
unsubstantial  and  as  transient.  And  yet  it  is  a  noble  life 
to  live.  There  is  a  true  greatness — real  and  imperishable. 
The  man  dies.  But  there  are  greater  objects  than  to  live. 
It  is  not  all  of  life  to  live.  The  fame  of  honorable  deeds  is 
a  perennial  beneficence.  The  consciousness  of  high  and 
pure  aims,  the  memory  of  worthy  actions — over  these  Death 
hath  no  power. 

To  the  mere  politician  a  fall  so  sudden  from  so  high  an 
elevation  must  appear  to  be  either  an  accident  in  a  world  of 


19 

chances,  or  a  mystery  in  the  inscrutable  Providence  of  God. 
The  considerate  Christian  will  study  to  discover  the  design 
of  heaven  in  the  salutary  influences  of  the  event ;  and  will 
feel  assured,  that,  more  or  less  remotely,  consequences  are 
connected  with  it,  which,  could  we  foresee  them,  would 
constrain  us  to  acknowledge,  that  the  good  man  was  as 
happy  in  the  time  of  his  death  as  he  had  been  fortunate  in 
the  career  of  life — like  Agricola,  "  felix  non  tantum  vitse 
claritate,  sed  etiam  opportunitate  mortis." 

There  are  periods  in  the  history  of  nations,  as  well  as 
individuals,  when  some  startling  moral  phenomenon  seems  to 
be  needed  to  arrest  attention,  and  compel  reflection.  The 
public  mind  is,  at  times,  infatuated  and  reckless  in  ambitious, 
or  selfish  pursuits  ;  the  passions  suffer  no  restraint.  At  such 
times  a  moral  miracle  is  necessary  to  hush  the  troubled  sea, 
and  restore  the  disordered  elements  to  their  wonted  action. 

Such,  may  we  not  hope,  will  be  the  effect  of  this  signal 
interposition  of  heaven  ?  Never  had  party  animosities  been 
more  virulent ;  never  was  personal  ambition  more  aspiring,  or 
more  general,  in  the  country.  The  good  man  was  beginning 
to  weep  at  the  public  morals  ;  and  the  patriot,  to  sigh  at  the 
prospects  of  Liberty.  In  an  instant,  as  it  were,  the  favorite 
leader  of  a  successful  party,  at  the  very  moment  of  com 
mencing  his  administration,  is  arrested  by  Death.  The 
shock  may  well  cause  the  statesmen,  who  stood  around  him, 
to  pause  and  estimate  anew  the  objects,  to  which  they  aspire, 
and  the  ends,  for  which  they  live.  Methinks,  the  great  men, 
who,  full  of  Professional  and  Civil  honors,  had  just  received 
their  highest  distinction  from  his  hand,  have  been  taught  a 
lesson,  too  impressive  to  be  soon  forgotten.  At  the  bed 
side  of  their  dying  chief,  and  in  the  tomb,  to  which,  with 


20 

uncovered  heads  and  reverent  step,  they  bore  his  unconscious 
remains,  how  impotent  must  have  seemed  the  mightiest 
intellect ;  how  empty  and  vain  the  proudest  earthly  distinc 
tions  ;  how  precious,  above  all  price,  that  Charity  which 
"  seeketh  not  its  own,"  and  which  "  never  faileth." 

The  great  event  must  impress  contending  and  exasperated 
partizans  with  the  littleness  of  the  interests,  which  divide 
and  embitter  them,  in  comparison  with  those  higher  and 
better  interests,  which  belong  to  us  all  as  men  and  as  candi 
dates  for  other  scenes  in  other  states  of  being.  It  seems 
to  me  we  do,  already,  see  a  milder  and  gentler  tone  in  the 
public  journals,  and  in  the  political  intercourse  of  life.  Let 
us  fervently  pray,  that  the  admonition  may  be  felt.  Let  us 
supplicate  the  God  of  our  Fathers,  that  the  beautiful  chris- 
tian  lessons,  left,  as  a  legacy,  to  his  countrymen,  by  the 
lamented  Harrison,  may  be  listened  to  and  cherished  ;  may 
be  bound  up  in  the  same  volume  with  the  moral  wisdom  of 
Washington  ;  and  make  a  part  of  the  American  Statesman's 
Manual. 

To  young  men,  especially  to  young  men,  who  have  chosen 
for  themselves  the  sphere  of  civil  life,  the  history  of  the 
departed  Statesman  is  full  of  instruction. 

The  great  lesson,  which  his  life  most  strikingly  enforces, 
expressed  with  something  of  Aphoristic  brevity  is  this, 
"  Do  well,  and  wait."  "  Confidence,  said  the  Earl  of  Chat 
ham,  is  a  plant  of  slow  growth."  And  so  is  the  merit,  by 
which  confidence  is  won.  The  greatest  of  all  mistakes,  at 
the  outset  of  life,  is  the  mistake  of  presuming  on  the  favor 
of  mankind  without  earning  it.  To  youth  the  world  will 
pardon  much.  Its  indiscretions  and  obliquities  are  over 
looked  with  surprising  charity.  But  youth  soon  passes  away; 


21 

and,  with  it,  passes  away,  also,  the  lenity  of  judgement,  the 
kind  allowance,  with  which  its  errors  and  follies  are  regarded. 
The  man  is  measured  by  a  severer  standard ;  and  awards  are 
meted  out  to  him  on  sterner  principles,  The  high  posts' 
the  permanent  distinctions  of  life,  its  great  prises,  are  all 
purchased  by  weary  years  of  toil.  It  is  true,  in  a  country 
like  ours,  the  patient  cultivator  of  himself,  the  diligent 
student  of  the  abstruser  and  less  inviting  principles  of  things, 
may  be,  sometimes,  out  run,  and  distanced,  by  nimbler,  more 
bustling,  and  less  scrupulous  spirits.  But  let  him  consider, 
that,  whilst  the  monarch  of  the  forest  is  slowly  maturing  to 
his  noble  stature,  generation  after  generation  of  the  grasses 
and  weeds,  that  shaded  his  infancy,  wither  and  rot  at  his 
foot.  In  a  quarter  of  a  century  many  shining  names  grow 
dim ;  many  budding  honors  are  blighted.  But  one  man  in  a 
hundred  lives  to  come  to  any  thing.  We  are  too  anxious 
to  reap  before  we  sow.  "  The  husbandman  waiteth  for  the 
precious  fruit  of  the  earth,  and  hath  long  patience  for  it, 
until  he  receive  the  early  and  the  latter  rain."  The  objects, 
which  young  men  propose  to  themselves  can  hardly  be  too 
great ;  but  they  may  be  too  near.  Impatience  is  the  sin  of 
youth.  Unity  and  steadiness  of  pursuit  are  the  true  secret 
of  ultimate  success. 

It  is,  however,  an  animating  thought,  to  the  man  of 
patient,  iron  industry,  that,  if  its  great  rewards  must  all  be 
earned,  they  are  seldom  withheld.  The  market  seems 
sometimes  overstocked;  and  a  young  man's  spirit  sinks 
within  him,  at  the  thought  of  having  so  many  to  contend 
with,  and  so  little  to  be  divided  among  them  all.  But  the 
rarest  thing  in  the  world  is  character,  the  growth  of  per 
sonal  pains  and  sacrifices,  and  trials.  Every  place  and 


22 

every  calling  wants  it.  It  is  never  seen  begging  bread.  Any 
price  will  be  paid  for  it. 

These  principles  are  strongly  enforced  by  the  example  of 
General  Harrison.  At  a  late  period  of  life,  unambitious, 
and  retired  from  public  observation  he  was  sought  out,  and 
solicited  to  accept  the  first  office  in  his  country.  A  man 
was  wanted  to  concentrate  public  sentiment,  to  inspire 
general  confidence.  The  able  statesmen,  the  great  orators 
of  the  time,  were  all  passed  by  ;  and  Cincinnatus  was  again 
called  from  the  plough.  That  he  had  always  done  well 
whatever  he  had  done,  and  aimed  uniformly  to  perfect  him 
self,  was  his  title  to  office. 

The  melancholly  death  of  the  President  is  not  less  instruc 
tive  than  his  life.  It  is,  in  itself,  a  beautiful  spectacle.  It 
possesses  a  moral  grandeur.  "A  Christian  is  the  highest 
style  of  man."  And,  yet,  a  Christian  statesman,  a  Christian 
prince,  bearing  the  ensigns  of  power  with  the  simplicity  and 
meekness  of  a  disciple  of  Jesus,  is  almost  too  rare,  not  to  be 
singular,  even  in  a  Christian  nation,  and  in  a  religious  age. 

When  such  an  one  dies,  full  of  honors,  and  of  hopes  that 
seek  their  objects,  where  he  sought  his  principles,  in  God, 
how  it  raises  our  idea  of  life  and  of  man.  As  there  is 
nothing  so  painful  to  think  of  as  a  gifted  intellect,  a  generous 
heart,  which  has  dignified  human  honors,  and  enobled 
human  offices,  passing  off  from  this  scene  of  action,  "with 
out  God  and  without  hope  ;"  so  there  is  nothing  so  worthy 
of  the  earnest  contemplation  of  young  men,  as  that  regen 
erate,  and  finished  character,  in  which  this  intellectual  being, 
the  thoughts  that  wander  through  eternity"  are  all  informed 
and  sanctified  by  Faith  and  Hope  and  Chanty.  To  be  a 
man  is  something — to  be  the  humblest  of  God's  rational 


A     000609914     7 

children.  To  be  great  among  men,  and  capable  of  greatness 
beyond  an  angel's  comprehension — the  heart  leaps  at  the 
thought.  And,  next  akin  to  greatness  and  goodness  itself, 
is  the  feeling  of  reverence  for  the  great  and  the  good.  Ven 
eration  is,  at  once,  an  element  and  a  means  of  true  nobility. 

There  is  also,  a  lesson,  worthy  of  profound  regard,  in  the 
sentiments  of  our  common  nature,  which  such  a  death  calls 
forth,  as  well  as  in  the  death  itself. 

When  a  human  creature  is  about  to  die,  we  feel,  that  the 
proper  subject  of  his  last  thoughts  is  his  own  preparation  for 
the  great  change.  When  a  neighbor  has  expired,  our  first 
anxiety  is  to  know,  how  he  died  ;  the  natural  inquiry  is, 
with  what  feelings  he  met  the  inevitable  doom.  These  are 
the  topics  that  engage  the  conversation  of  those  who  minis 
tered  to  him  in  his  extremity,  and  of  those  who  assemble  to 
commit  his  remains,  with  decency  and  honor,  to  the  grave. 
The  last  expressions  of  a  deceased  friend  are  treasured  up, 
and  repeated  with  never  ceasing  fondness.  With  the  dying 
words  of  her  son  the  bereaved  mother  daily  opens  afresh  the 
fountain  of  her  tears.  These  dying  words  are  carried  by 
careful  messengers,  with  inviolable  fidelity,  over  seas  and 
continents,  as  priceless  relics  to  surviving  love. 

When  the  great  heart  of  our  revered  chief  magistrate 
ceased  to  beat,  how  spontaneously  this  natural,  universal 
feeling  burst  forth.  With  what  earnestness  the  ministers  of 
State  and  the  humblest  citizens  alike  turned,  in  their 
bereavement,  to  the  closing  scene  of  the  good  man's  life, 
to  gather  consolation  and  hope  from  the  professions  of  that 
honest  hour.  How  anxiously  the  Pulpit  and  the  Press 
collected  every  fragment  of  his  public  documents,  or  his  pri 
vate  conversations,  which  could  throw  any  new  light  on  his 


UCSB  LIBRARY 


religious  principles,  or  the  feelings  with  which  he  suffered 
and  died.  When  his  sacred  remains  were  lying  in  state, 
composed  for  the  final  rites,  which  affection  pays  to  the 
dead,  there  was  laid  on  his  coffin,  by  the  side  of  the  sword, 
which  the  Hero  was  wont  to  bear,  the  Bible  which  the  Pres 
ident  was  accustomed  to  read.  It  was  proper;  it  was 
natural.  It  is  not  improbable  it  may  have  been  placed  there 
by  hands,  to  which  the  Holy  Book  is  not  familiar,  under  the 
influence  of  that  instinctive  feeling  of  propriety,  which  leads 
us  all  unconsciously,  on  such  occasions,  to  be  testimony  to 
the  great  truths  of  our  Religion.  These  truths  are  not 
written  on  parchment  alone.  They  are  engraved  deep 
upon  the  human  heart.  The  written  word  has  a  coun 
terpart  in  our  own  bosoms.  "  An  undevout  astronomer  is 
mad  :"  and  unchristian  greatness  is  a  solicism. 

Let  the  candidate  for  honor,  let  the  young  aspirant  for 
venerable  power,  remember  always,  let  him  lay  it  down  as  a 
first  truth,  that  HE  ONLY  is  GREAT,  WHO  FEARS  GOD 

AND    KEEPS     HIS     COMMANDMENTS. 


